Thus the first week which Fanny spent at Szentirmay Castle was by no means so very painful, and after that Rudolf had to go to the capital from whence he was only to return on the day before the installation.
Meanwhile the two ladies, with the utmost forethought, were arranging everything for the approaching festivities, and whatever one of them forgot was sure to occur to the other. Fanny began to find her position more and more natural;
every day she began to gain a greater command over her tender emotions, and indeed life, practical life, makes possible and comprehensible much which poetical logic and the imagination label—absurd.
On the day of the installation, Lady Szentirmay and Madame Kárpáthy drove over to the county town where lodgings had been provided for the former's husband as Governor-General, at the town-hall.
Szentirmay wished his installation to be conducted with as little pomp and ceremony as possible. The most eminent ladies of the county watched the procession from the balcony, and Madame Kárpáthy also was among them. It was difficult to recognize any one in particular among all those holiday faces, such a different aspect did their Oriental gravity and splendid Oriental Köntöses give them. Several of the younger cavaliers saluted the ladies with their swords.
At length the carriage of the Főispán came in sight with a clattering escort of twelve knightly horsemen. He himself was sitting bareheaded in the open carriage, and something like emotion was visible on his handsome noble face. Loud cries of "Éljen! éljen!" announced his approach. Every one knew of him by hearsay as the noblest of men, and every one rejoiced that the best of patriots and the most excellent of citizens should have attained the highest dignity in the county. Madame Kárpáthy looked at him tremblingly, better for her if she had never seen him like this.
The procession passed across the square to the gate of the town-hall, and half an hour later Rudolf was standing in the large assembly-room filling it with his sublime impassioned words, till all who heard felt their hearts leap towards him. Madame Kárpáthy also heard him, she was in the gallery. Ah, it would have been better had she neither seen nor heard him there. Now she not merely loved, she adored him.
All at once she began to notice that somebody in the assembly-hall below was making frantic signs to her with hands and head, and using every available limb to attract her attention; nay, he even got upon a chair in order to be able to see her better. At first she did not recognize the man, but presently the disagreeable recollection thrilled through her that she had seen him before somewhere, and she regarded him more closely with a look of aversion—it was Mr. Kecskerey.
Why, what could have brought that worthy man thither, for it was not his way to put himself to any inconvenience without very good reason.